Easy To Fix
by shortierockette
Summary: "He was a good kid who didn't deserve to die. I'm a hood who doesn't deserve to live. Well, I sure as hell can't do nothing 'bout the first one. But the second's easy to fix." Now that Johnny's gone, Dally only sees one last option.


**So, here's a little somethin' I wrote a while ago, back when I read The Outsiders (which I don't own!) for English (perhaps the only assigned book I ever enjoyed in all my high school experience). This whole thing's based off of chapter 10 of the book, not the movie (which I don't own either!), because I know it's done a bit differently there. ****Bear in mind, this was written a little while ago, so if there's any suggestions for how to edit it, they'll be much appreciated, since Dallas is freakin' _hard_ to write. ****And, like most works of brilliance, this came to me in a fit of boredom. So, being me, I had my teacher read it.**

**Needless to say, the Dark Overlord Santa loved it (a nickname my two besties Rissie and Jessa gave him, since he nicknames_ everyone_. I was "The 'Inator", a robot sent back through time to revolutionize high school-English).**

**Aaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm rambling...**

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"Dammit, Johnny…" I beg, slamming my fist against the wall. "Oh, dammit, Johnny, don't die, please don't die…"

I turn around and bolt through the door, racing down the hall. I know people must be starin' at me; the tough hood running through a hospital, but I don't care. I just can't take him lyin' there so still, those big eyes of his closed. Knowin' they'll never open, never look at me again. Those big, sad black eyes…

I run out into the hospital parking lot to where the T-bird's parked, and jump in. The horn makes a loud honk as I slam my head against the steering wheel. Sweat's running down my cheeks. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. I see his burned body, all broken, lying in the hospital bed.

"Why?" I choke. "Why'd he have to die?" It feels like someone's trying to strangle me. Johnny's dead, he's really dead. That's all I'm thinking, over and over. _Johnny's dead. _That's all I _can_ think about. There's this weird pain in my chest makin' it hard to breathe. I need to get my mind cleared, try and keep from thinkin'.

Straightening up, I turn the key in the transmission, and the car roars out of the parkin' lot. Everythin' looks all blurred and I can't see the road real well, but that don't matter. I have to get away from that place; not just from that room, but the whole building and everythin' around it. I can't be there, I just can't. I need to get somewhere else; anywhere else.

There's a slam, and a shock ripples through the entire T-bird. I blink, stunned when I see I've drove the car into a lamppost. Man, Buck was gonna be mad when he found out. I shove the door open and stumble out. Pain shoots through my foot as I kick at the stupid car. Johnny just couldn't die; it wasn't right, it wasn't fair…

I start laughin', even though it sure as hell ain't funny. Of course it wasn't fair; life's never fair. I'd learned that back when I was only ten, the first time I got put in the cooler. I'd learned pretty quickly that getting tough was the only way to survive. So I got tough, and it was like nothin' could hurt me.

When did I first start actually carin' about Johnny? At first, I thought he was just some annoyin' kid. When'd I first start to love him like he was my little brother? He'd died 'cause he'd saved those brats in the church. A world where kids like Johnny died for doin' the right thing; a world like that ain't right.

"Oh, God, why'd you have to take him?" I sob. "Outta all the people, why'd Johnny have to be the one to die?" I'd given up on God a long time ago; he'd never bothered to take care of me, that's for sure. Johnny had never done nothing wrong in his life, except for knifing that Soc, and we all knew that was an accident. I've done lots of wrong things; it should've been _me_ who died...

When I said I couldn't care less 'bout my old man, I meant it. But even though he had it far worse, Johnny never talked like that. Probably 'cause that wasn't what he really felt; sadness, not hate. You could see it in his eyes, every time he showed up with new bruises and cuts. The pain in those big, black eyes was so obvious. He wanted them to love him; he desperately wanted for his folks to actually love him, like real parents. Johnny's life was worse than most of ours, but he never complained. It was always us doing that.

I'm a little startled when I realize I'm crying. I've forgotten how long it's been since I last cried. I start to wipe my eyes, but I stop myself. _Johnnycake's worth tears_. He was a good kid who didn't deserve to die. I'm a hood who doesn't deserve to live. Well, I sure as hell can't do nothing 'bout the first one. But the second's easy to fix.

I know now that if I hadn't cared so much about Johnny, I would've killed myself a long time ago. He was the only reason I'd had to stay livin'. I guess I figured he needed someone who was tough to teach him how take care of himself. Guess that didn't work too well.

I pull Two-Bit's prized switch out of my pocket. It flicks open with a nice soft click. I close my eyes and press it against my throat. It's so easy now; it'll all be over soon. But I can't seem to make myself cut in. It just won't.

"Stupid! Just do it already!" I grit my teeth and try again. But I just can't do it. I saw people get their throats slashed back in New York. They died slowly, rollin' on the ground in their own blood. I wanna die, more than anything else; but not that way. There's gotta be another way to do this. As I slip the knife back in my pocket, my hand bumps against the heater I been carryin'. It ain't loaded, but it didn't need to be for a bluff.

Only just yesterday, I was talkin' to Ponyboy and Johnny 'bout that gun. Right before the church fire. Funny how things can change so quickly. One day you're alive, then the next... No, I don't wanna think 'bout that now! I run my finger down the trigger. Not like I could kill myself with an unloaded gun- or could I?

I go to the nearest store and walk in. Almost immediately, the manager seems to sense I'm trouble and watches me anxiously as I walk around. Perfect, that's exactly what I want. I grab some random item and start to walk out.

"Hey, you've got to pay for that!" The manager shouts. I whip out the heater and aim it at his head.

"I don't gotta do nothing!" I snap. Can he hear the sadness in my voice? I hope not; might mess with the bluff. The manager stares at me, white-faced, reaching slowly for the phone. He's tryin' to call the fuzz on me. Good. I sprint outta the store, knowin' that within minutes the cops will be after me. Then, I'll get what I've been wantin' for so long.

I stuff whatever junk it was I stole into a trash can, and then run down a block before I start to hear the sirens. Damn, they're after me already! I don't have much time. I duck into a nearby phone booth, shove a coin down the slot, and dial out the Curtis's number. The moment Darry picks up I blurt out what has happened, but leavin' out my plans, of course. I tell him to meet me in the lot, and hang up before he can say anythin' else.

I'm runnin' now, faster than I ever run before. I'm close, so close! I've reached the lot now, and there's sirens blazing all around me. Farther off, I can see the gang runnin' to meet me. Darry, Soda, Two-Bit, Steve, Ponyboy. Pony... I didn't think he'd come too; maybe he shouldn't see this. I shake my head. Too late for that now. They don't look right without Johnny there with 'em. But I won't have to worry 'bout that much longer.

A street lamp shines above me. As I turn to face the cops, I slide the heater outta my pocket and aim it at them. Almost immediately, the crack of bullets echo across the lot. Pain sears as they thud into me, and I'm shoved backwards. Golly, I didn't know getting shot hurts so much! That don't matter, though. Already, the pain's starting to stop. I think I'm smilin', but I can't be too sure; I can't seem to feel my face.

Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get sent to purgatory instead of Hell. Can't be much worse than the cooler. You get outta purgatory after a while, right? I don't remember much of that kinda stuff. Never was one for churches, or mass, even though Pony and Johnny went. Johnnycake... maybe I'll get to see him again. I think the first thing I'll do is tell him I'm proud of him again. He looked so happy when I said it before. I hope he'll be happier now. Course, it'd probably be real hard to be unhappy in Heaven, huh? He'll be there, all right. No way a kid like Johnny Cade wouldn't go to Heaven.

If purgatory's anythin' like jail, I'll be outta there in no time.

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**I will not be a review whore, I will not be a review whore, I will not be a review whore, I will not be a review whore, I will not be a review whore, I will not be a review whore...**

**Except I totally will be.**


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